


Swimming Lessons

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Swimming, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:48:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The last thing you ever thought you’d be doing on a sunny Saturday morning in August was teaching your boyfriend to swim.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swimming Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt on Tumblr asking for:
> 
> Something super fluffy where Niall tries to teach Zayn to swim and Zayn keeps getting frustrated

The last thing you ever thought you’d be doing on a sunny Saturday morning in August was teaching your boyfriend to swim. Mostly because until a few months ago you were pretty much convinced you were straight, but also partly because you sort of presumed that at 19 everyone should be able to swim already. But you’ve never judged Zayn for his lack of prowess in the water before and you’re determined not to now as you wait for him to emerge from the changing rooms. The air is warm in the swimming baths and you’ve never been self-conscious before so you’re perfectly content to stand around in just your swimming trunks for as long as it takes him to finish getting changed: it’s been a good five to ten minutes now and he’s still not done! What on earth can he possibly be doing in there? Knowing the older man, he’s probably making sure he looks perfect despite the chlorinated water you’re both about to swim in - a small giggle escapes your mouth as you imagine him in a shower cap to protect his perfectly coiffured hair and lean against the tiled wall with half a mind to force the door open if he doesn’t come out soon. However just then Zayn marches out of the cubicle holding aloft a pair of orange plastic armbands that up until then you’d almost forgotten about.

“What the fuck are these?” he demands mock-seriously, the corners of his mouth turning upwards slightly as he tries to suppress a grin whereas you’ve already burst out laughing.

“They were Louis’ idea!” protesting your innocence seems to you like a good way of continuing the joke, however your boyfriend’s smile drops and he stiffens instantly when he realises that the stunt wasn’t entirely your idea and that others have been in on it. As much as you love him you have to admit he’s always been a bit sensitive about being laughed at.

*

“So you went and told all of them that I was getting swimming lessons, did you?” Although his voice is quite aggressive his face conveys more fear than anger - you can’t help but feel sorry for how embarrassed he is at his inability to swim, no matter how many times you’ve told him that it isn’t important and you love him just as much regardless of whether he can do breaststroke or not.

“No, but Louis asked whether he could come along with us this morning,” you explain in what you hope is a calming tone of voice. “So I said I was going to help you learn to swim and he suggested the armbands for a laugh.” Once again Zayn’s face clouds over at the thought of being the butt of a joke so you quickly place an arm around his shoulders that you now realise are shaking with nerves. It seems he really is worried about what you’re going to do! “I’m sorry,” the apology is a genuine one and your boyfriend relaxes into your hug as he nods to show he accepts it. “It’s going to be fine though, seriously. Swimming’s a piece of piss once you get the hang of it!” Laughing, the older boy pulls away but only so that he can kiss you softly, something that you still can hardly believe you’re lucky enough to be able to do with him.

“I know,” whispers Zayn when the kiss has ended and you realise you’ve somehow ended up pressed against the cold white wall with your arms around his waist. “I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all.” Immediately you know that he wouldn’t admit this sort of thing to many people and, high on the fact that he trusts you, you grab his hand, squeeze it reassuringly and pull him out of the changing rooms and towards the pool.

*

Standing at the side of the empty pool (despite the fact that in principle you disagree with having perks just because you can sing a bit, that doesn’t mean you aren’t above reaping the benefits sometimes), you realise that the first hurdle will be getting Zayn to enter the water that he’s staring at as though it’s some sort of unearthly monster.

“Come one, babe,” with an encouraging smile you take his hand once again and he peels his eyes away from the blue ripples to turn towards you.

“I’m just taking my time,” clearly if he takes much more time he’ll psyche himself out completely so in a moment of madness you take his other hand as well and jump in, taking him along with you. Although the water isn’t freezing it’s a definite contrast to the warm air and you shiver slightly as you dive down to the bottom (this isn’t much of a feat given that the water is only about a metre deep) to wet your hair and get yourself re-accustomed to the feeling of swimming. When you resurface Zayn - who’d thankfully remembered to bend his legs as he entered the pool so that he didn’t land on his feet - is staring at you like you’ve grown another head and for once in his life he looks almost… scared. “I hope you don’t expect me to do that,” he utters eventually but you lay a comforting hand on his shoulder and smile to calm his nerves.

“Well you’re going to have to go underwater at some point, Zayny!”

*

Your light hearted approach appears to have been a mistake for he blanches at the comment, then ducks his head in embarrassment as his fists clench frustratedly.

“I’m just useless, I guess,” there’s nothing attention seeking in his voice, just a dejected resignation that makes your heart bleed for him until you can’t stand it and you lean forwards to kiss him once again: a gesture which you’re hoping will convey how much you love him and that he is the complete opposite of ‘useless’.

“Don’t you ever say that about yourself,” mumbling into the kiss, you feel him start to physically relax more as he grows used to his watery surroundings before you both pull away with newly understanding smiles on your faces. “You’re wonderful and gorgeous and by the end of today you’re going to be an amazing swimmer as well!” Here seems like an appropriate time to tell him your plans for the lesson so with another grin at Zayn you begin, “Now, they say the best way to teach something is using the carrot and the stick method of praise and punishment. But I don’t approve of punishment, except for –” winking at your boyfriend earns you a small giggle, “- certain purposes, so I’m just going to use the carrot.”

“What do you mean?” a mystified expression has descended on his face from your evidently rather confusing analogy.

“Basically, you get a kiss every time you learn something, babe!”

*

Confusion turns to a wide smile at your much more brief explanation; Zayn seems to have decided (as you’d hoped) that swimming can’t be all bad if he’s getting kisses out of it..

“I wish they had used that method when I was at school - some of my teachers were seriously hot!” Because you can’t see your own reflection particularly well in the water you don’t realise that your expression has turned to one of jealousy until he chuckles at you and cups a hand around your face. “Not as hot as you though, of course! You’re the best teacher of them all.” Beaming once again, you turn onto your back almost self-consciously, then swim a quick circle of backstroke around him to hide your excitement at being called ‘hot’, which has the unprecedented side effect of the older boy getting dizzy as he tries to turn and follow your progress. He’s still wobbling a bit when you stand up straight and begin to talk again.

“The first lesson is getting changed into swimming trunks before entering the pool.” With a frown he looks at you as though checking to see if he’s heard correctly, but of course that was your plan all along.

“Getting changed? I’ve already done that, though!”

“Exactly,” laughter escapes from your mouth as you lean forward to capture his lips in a sweet but passionate kiss that you’re guessing tastes slightly of chlorine although you can no longer tell. There’s still a cheeky sparkle in your eyes after you break apart. “This method wasn’t just designed for your pleasure, you know!”

*

An hour later and the method still seems to be working: Zayn has learned to do a basic front crawl which is certainly an improvement on his usual splashy doggy-style paddling whenever he finds himself in the water. Using kisses as an incentive was definitely one of your better ideas, although at points you have to remind yourself that for today you’re supposed to be acting the role of teacher and therefore should try not to get too carried away with your increasingly more passionate embraces. Eventually when you’re pleased enough with his progress in the shallow end you decide to suggest a bigger challenge in the hope that your boyfriend may finally be able to take another step in confronting his fear of swimming.

“Hey, Malik!” you call from your position sat on the side of the pool (at first you were by his side for every width but as he’s grown in confidence you’ve felt him become comfortable enough that he’s not going to drown and have gradually moved further and further away from him) and he turns quickly to swim the short distance back to you. While he recovers his breath you try to put across your idea as casually as possible, although it’s fair to say that subtlety has never been your forte. “You’re doing really well you know! Seriously, you’ve improved so much!” Smiling at the compliments, he hops up beside you on the ledge in order to put an arm around your shoulders and snuggle his head into your neck adorably. “So, I was wondering… do you think you’d maybe come underwater with me?”

*

Immediately he freezes stiff.

“Underwater?” he gulps and you start to feel like a terrible human being for even thinking about asking such a thing so quickly gabble to make up for it.

“I’m sorry, it was a stupid suggestion, and of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to or if you’re not ready or…” Placing a finger over your lips to quieten you, Zayn seems to steel himself before looking directly into your blue eyes and nodding.

“OK, I’ll do it.” There’s a pause and when he speaks again his voice is distinctly less confident, more revealing as to the fact that he is rather fucking terrified but doesn’t want to disappoint you which is good because it makes you feel special but bad because it’s the sort of behaviour that will probably get him killed if he keeps it up into the foreseeable future. “As long as you’re there.” Despite the seriousness in his tone you can’t help but smile as you reply.

“Always.”

*

At that you both slide into the water, your boyfriend with slightly less confidence but still enough to ensure that he remains afloat as you swim further until you’re about halfway down the length of the pool. Zayn is physically shaking, which doesn’t help him tread water very well and it’s only when you grasp hold of his shoulders and stare seriously into his dark, desperate eyes that he begins to calm down again.

“I haven’t let you drown yet, have I?” you ask jokingly, hoping that he will laugh along, and then feel relieved when he manages a feeble chuckle before becoming serious but thankfully not as scared. “Now all you’re going to do is put your head under the water,” while explaining patiently your fingers subconsciously begin to massage his shoulders to relax him. “That’s nice and easy, isn’t it?” Nodding, he keeps his gaze fixed firmly on you and not the water below which must look incredibly deep to him right now. “OK, I’m going to count to three,” at this point his eyes grow wide again as he realises that the dreaded moment is coming a lot more quickly than expected, but you keep your grip on him to remind him that you’re still there and always will be. “One… two… thr-” Before you can finish your countdown, however, your boyfriend pulls away completely with fear and also annoyance at himself in his eyes.

*

“I’m sorry,” he starts apologising immediately, balling his fists in renewed frustration. You’re about to suggest calling it a day and trying again some other time when this time he takes your skinny shoulders and bobs up and down a few times, muttering, “Don’t let me have time to think about it.” There’s barely time for you to take a deep breath and then suddenly you’re revelling in the blissful calm of being underwater, the dappled sunlight through the windows shining down through the small simulated waves and casting patterns behind your squeezed shut eyes until your feet hit the bottom of the pool and you propel yourself up once again. When you resurface it’s to find your boyfriend with dripping wet hair (something he’s normally totally averse to with the exception of showers) and the biggest smile ever on his face.

“I did it!” His ecstatic grin is contagious – you find yourself beaming along as the two of you swim swiftly back towards the shallow end where you both settle down against the wall, rather exhausted for some reason.

“You did it,” you agree and then notice that his innocent smile has changed to one that you know all too well.

“So what reward do I get for that then, _sir_?”


End file.
